


The Simpleton and the Romanticist

by shitkai



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Face-Fucking, Intercrural Sex, M/M, That's it but its 4k words so a lot happens, a lot happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shitkai/pseuds/shitkai
Summary: Kuro looks like he’s trying to decipher Keito’s musings, but he just sighs, this high look of adoration on his face,”You’re such a romanticist, did you know that?”





	The Simpleton and the Romanticist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetredgift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetredgift/gifts).



> Usually it takes me months to write something,,, but I wrote this in two days???????  
> ???????????????? Horny is a disease.  
> This is for my lovely friend and fellow krk fucker, so pardon if this caters more to him than you, but honestly, who doesn't like a good smut fic lol?? Please enjoy.

Keito had stayed back today.

Though it was almost commonplace to do so, he had to withdraw from his unit expenditures for the sake of his duties as the Vice President of the student council. It’s almost as though he’s wired to do this, working day in and day out to keep everything in order while picking up Eichi’s slack. Keito rubs at the crease in his brow absentmindedly.

The way the pale blue of the daytime sky gets overpowered by the warm accents of the upcoming evening tells Keito that even with the work he has done so far, it’s going to be a long afternoon. He snaps his attention from the scenery outside of the window to focus on his work.

He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting here, but the sky is a harsh mesh of warm hues, and his tail bone is sore from the incessant sitting. Keito gives his lower back a generous rub, all the water he’d been drinking up until now and the relentless shaking of his leg, a signal that it was about time for him to take a small restroom break.

The dull resounding of the chair legs on the ground when he makes way to stand, echos in his ears, Keito’s eyes giving the room behind him one last glance before he steps out.

When Keito’s done relieving himself, he’s washing his hands in the school sink, his own reflection lagging in motion. Maybe he’s just lightheaded from holding it too long. _After this document._ He’d said, foot rapping on the tile floor of the office. _After this one,_ and _After I read this paragraph,_ and soon enough his leg had been shaking.

 _Am I an idiot…?_ He thinks, pressing his still-damp hands to the edge of the sink counter and resting the weight of his body there. _Always over-exerting yourself for no reason. You’re no better than Eichi._

When Keito leaves the bathroom, the hallway is a long strip of vacancy, the wide and vast row of paneled windows allowing the sun to illuminate the whole area around him. He allows himself the simple pleasure of basking in it; the light, the sunset, the silence. He breathes out.

The painstakingly loud slide of doors is what startles Keito, chartreuse eyes regarding the source of the racket.

“…What a pain…” Kuro says while stepping out. It’s as if he’s genuinely vexed at something. His hand is unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck, and it isn’t until he opens his shut eyes that he sees Keito standing there. He looks dumbfounded to see him for some reason. “ _…Danna…?_ ”

“Kiryu,” Keito acknowledges the other with a nod. Before Keito turns to look outside again, he catches a glimpse of Kuro smiling.

“I knew you’d be in the school, but isn’t the student council office on the top floor?”

“Bathroom.” Keito juts a thumb behind where he’s standing to gesture at it,”This is the nearest one.”

“Ain’t that inconvenient…?” It’s rhetorical, said with satire and a bit of pity. Kuro’s making way to stand by Keito, hard emerald boring into the side of his face. “So you just got lost in the scenery huh?”

That, was an actual question, and Keito ponders it, flipping it over back and forth in his mind. “You’d think that staying behind so often, I’d get used to this,” he pauses and Kuro is still _looking_ at him,”the warm, overtly saturated colors, the light of the sun staining everything in yellow… Every day.”

His gaze finally regards Kuro again. ”Just because I see it often doesn’t mean it is any less beautiful, I just felt like appreciating it,” he finishes.

Kuro looks like he’s trying to decipher Keito’s musings, but he just sighs, this high look of adoration on his face,”You’re such a romanticist, did you know that?”

There are a multitude of ways Keito can respond to that, he thinks that he couldn’t even respond at all and Kuro would still be here next to him. Instead, he says,“How else would I write our lyrics…?”

To which is met with Kuro’s mirthful laugh,”Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Kuro is the first to look away this time, the both of them just gazing outside for a long stretch of minutes. _This is counterproductive._ Keito can’t let himself relax in Kuro’s overwhelming proximity, and he’s subconsciously fiddling where he’s standing.

Kuro notices— of _course_ he notices— and looks down at Keito like the councilman’s discomfort is beginning to stifle even him. He jostles Keito with an elbow, casually,”Don’t you have work to do?”

Keito was looking for an excuse to leave, and as if being offered a gift, he takes Kuro’s proposition gratefully. “Ah,” he nods, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose subconsciously. It isn’t a lie, but the urgency in the way he detaches himself from Kuro’s side to walk back to the office, gives everything away.

Keito was obviously flustered, Kuro notes. _Even the tips of his ears were red._

_So even Danna has that side to him, huh?_

* * *

 

 

It’s a Friday, and it’s raining when Keito stays behind again.

He isn’t swamped with work like he had been Monday, in fact, he’s got no obligation to be here. Keito just wants to avoid driving in the rain, and maybe the rain clouds will pass while he catches up on some work.

It’s gloomy; and Keito finds himself turning on the light of his desk lamp to combat the perpetual darkness.

He’s working for an hour… that bleeds into two hours, when there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” he says, only looking up when a figure emerges through the doorway.

Lighting cracks, making the figure a vague silhouette for the flash of seconds it ensues. When it subsides, thunder rolls in afterwards, Kuro’s body catching the dim outskirts of where the lamp’s light reaches. They’re staring at eachother.

Kuro’s drenched, Keito focuses his eyes enough to see that much when he closes the door behind him. Keito finds himself setting his paperwork to the side, standing up with a bit too much tenacity.

“ _Kiryu…?_ ”

“Danna.”

There’s not much thought; it’s almost as if it’s the robotic caretaker in him, developed from years of doting on Eichi. He’s getting a blanket, and making his way towards where Kuro is.

Maybe it’s because he’s standing in the way of the light, but his shadow’s cast over the other male’s frame, and darkness engulfs the both of them.

“I remember falling asleep here once… you draped this over me, right?” Keito was rubbing his thumb over one of the seams of the blanket, eyes finding Kuro’s once more,”I had a feeling it was you, Kiryu, but I never got around to giving it back to you.”

Kuro just stares for another minute, before nodding. “Yeah,” he says, his eyes searching Keito’s,”it was me.”

"Thank you for that." Though he expected no less,“Now take off your jacket and sit down.”

* * *

Eichi has a portable hot plate for things like this… and although Kuro could’ve made it himself, Keito stands in front of it, fixing the both of them some tea.

“It’s hot,” Keito warns, handing Kuro a China-like cup.

He takes it graciously,“Thank you.”

The silence that follows while they drink together is fraught to say the least, but Kuro saves it with an attempt at conversation.

“My sis is probably off the bus by now.” He’s looking into his cup, every one of his subtle movements disrupting the stillness of the fluid. “I know she’ll be alright with my father, but she’s pretty dependent on me.”

Keito’s watching Kuro from over the rim of his cup, his tongue absentmindedly licking his lips,”And so you tried to walk home? In this weather?”

Kuro smiles a bit sardonically, shrugging his shoulders beneath the cover draped over him,”She’s afraid of thunder and lightning.” He says that matter-of-factly, and in that moment Keito’s sure that someone like Kuro— who’d cross fire and ice for the people he loves— is undeniably perfect.

Keito sits down his cup, interlocking his fingers and looking at them.

“Yet you’re here with me.”

Lightning strikes once again when they lock eyes, and the lamp flickers just a bit. Keito can’t seem to control the way his breathing changes as the seconds pass, because Kuro is still _looking_ at him. Looking with those eyes that say a multitude of unspoken words.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice a little too deep, a little too on edge,”I guess so.”

Thunder churns the vacancy of sound for a second time, and all Keito can think of is Kuro’s sister. _It must suck to be her._

“Are you done? Would you like some more? The water’s probably still hot enough for another cup.” Keito’s a bit eager to be busy. He thinks that he can’t sit here staring at Kuro forever— which is a lie, but there’s no guarantee that he’ll stay sane if he does.

Kuro nods, _thankfully,_ just trying to have something warm in his hands.

Keito’s fixing Kuro some more tea, surprised when he hears the chair scrape against the floor of the other side of the room. Before he knows it, a looming figure blocks the light from behind him, and Keito finds himself being swathed in Kuro’s shadow. Inevitably, Kuro is behind him, the cover adorning him abandoned on the chair he had been sitting in.

Like this, Keito can see the way water still beads on Kuros skin… how it slides down the column of Kuro’s neck and gets caught in the chasm of his clavicle. Like this, Keito can see how Kuro’s black undershirt sticks to his chest and clings lasciviously to his damp skin.

“Danna,” Kuro’s not doing anything but _looking_ at him,”You need help?”

Keito smiles, lips curled upwards in this wry way that he really hadn’t meant for them to. The question is still turning gears in Keito’s head; once again, a question with a limitless amount of answers.

“With what…?” Is his pitiful, _pitiful_ response.

Keito prides himself on being able to choose the right words, and that’s why, when he says that, he knows he’s chosen the wrong thing to say. His own words echo in his mind to his chagrin, and Kuro’s too, from what he can see on his face.

 _Great,_ Keito thinks.

“The tea,” Kuro says, and then, a bit hesitantly,”what’d you think I was talkin’ about?”

 _Great,_ Keito thinks again.

He finally turns himself around, thinking that if this conversation keeps going on for as long as he thinks it will, he’s going to have to reheat the water. “I know I appear…… unwell these days,” there’s an indefinite pause between the words,”I just thought you were being meddlesome again.”

“Is that so?”

For a second, Keito feels an involuntary shiver rack his body, but he’s pulling himself together again, his hand pushing up his glasses.

“Yes.” Is his almost breathless response, because Kuro’s gaze is astute and unrelenting, and there isn’t much else he can say.

“I don’t think you’re unwell,” Kuro says, which is something Kuro _would_ say,”I just wanna help you when I can.”

Keito laughs a little, a quiet guffaw,”You’re so simple, Kiryu.”

When the lightning strikes again, it finally knocks the power out. All they have now is each other. Not the light, not the hot plate and by association, no tea either. “So much for the tea, huh?”

To Keito’s surprise, Kuro doesn’t respond, he just keeps looking down at him as if he has something to say.

“Kiryu? What is it?”

Even with the minimal light, Kuro can see how Keito’s face is colored with bewilderment. He sighs,”I was just thinking… about how badly I wanted to kiss you right now.”

Keito reels, his back hitting the table behind him in an overt display of shock,”H-Huh?” He sputters, his face and ears all impossibly warm right then.

“We’ve kissed before.” Kuro says truthfully,”And now the mood just seems kind of…”

He’s scratching the back of his neck,”I just wanna kiss you.”

Keito closes his eyes, lips pressed together in that wry kind of smile again while his face quite literally burns. Kuro is too blunt for his own good. Simple indeed.

_“…What’s stopping you?”_

Just saying that is enough to make them both blushing messes, but Kuro doesn’t need to be given the green light twice.

Keito is more or less stupefied by the fact that Kuro doesn’t go straight for his lips, instead, he’s grabbing Keito’s forearm. Lightning illuminates Kuro’s features from where they are in front of the window, and when his lips brush shy of where Keito’s palm meets his wrist, his pants start to feel incredibly tight.

Kuro’s chin bumps against the underside of Keito’s wristwatch, lips kissing above it whilst looking dazedly into Keito’s eyes. He’s kissing that area earnestly, Keito’s fingers twitching when he feels Kuro’s tongue dart out to lick along a visible vein in his pale skin.

“Ah, _Kiryu_ ,” Keito’s _so_ hard, he’s so hard that the heat rushing to his dick almost simultaneously fills his lungs and makes his breathing heavy and obscene.

He feels pathetic for getting excited off of this alone; but the way Kuro is looking at him, like he’s going to rip him apart and consume him whole, it’s unbearable.

It takes awhile, but eventually the thunder catches the lightning and clatters the earth with the sound. _Danna,_ Keito sees Kuro mouth the word, but the sound is drowned out by the restless clambering of the storm.

Before it even has a chance to stop Kuro kisses him, fully, _finally,_ on the mouth.

Kuro is Keito’s first to a lot of things, he’s been raised strictly in the temples, and Eichi’s been his only friend _(and love interest)_ before his time at Yumenosaki. Rei had taught Keito a plethora of things about romance in their time together as DEADMANZ, but Kuro has been his one and only up until now. It’s daunting, still, giving himself up to someone.

He doesn’t want to think about having to ever get used to surrendering himself, but as long as he has Kuro here with him, he’s not going to deny himself the pleasure of being put in his place.

Kuro’s licking the inside of his mouth, the hand not squeezing Keito’s forearm holding his face up to kiss him.

 _This is awful._ Keito’s literally sucking Kuro’s tongue and his neck is starting to strain from how his head is being tilted back— and yet he enjoys every minute, fervently kissing back in the minimalistic, animalistic way he knows how.

Kuro’s nose slots with Keito’s and bumps against his foggy glasses uncomfortably. He breaks the kiss to run his thumb along Keito’s wet and tastefully pink bottom lip,”Danna, your glasses.”

“Don’t mind them,” he’s panting, eyes hazy as he tries to blink Kuro back into focus,”I just want to…”

Keito finds himself pausing, brows furrowing as he tries to discern his own desires. There are many things he wants, he wants another kiss, he wants to be touched, he wants to touch Kuro, he wants… _well._

“I want you to put it in my mouth…”

Keito knows that Kuro knows what he means by that, and that alone is making him dizzy from embarrassment. “Please let me,” his throat is so dry when he swallows and Keito blames that kiss for making him so delirious,”let me do this for you.”

An incorrigible noise is ripped from Kuro, deep and gruff as he seizes Keito by his shoulders. “Get on your knees then.”

Keito thinks that Kuro would’ve said something much sweeter if the circumstances had been different and Keito wasn’t looking like the pathetic church boy he is. He also doesn’t mind, and involuntarily thinks that that guttural and demanding voice Kuro had just churned out, was so maddeningly sexy.

Keito finds himself on his knees of his own office, on the highest floor of Yumenosaki, on a Friday afternoon in the middle of a mid-day storm, about to do something entirely unlike him.

When his hands wrap around the midsection of Kuro’s thighs, he can tell that they’re damp from the rain. His scent is that much stronger with the wetness; Keito’s leaning in to press his mouth against the clothed erection that seems so impossibly far from where his dick should be.

There’s this urgency that’s evident in the way Keito undoes Kuro’s zipper, and it’s a prevalent fact that he’s been soaked down to his underwear.

When the lightning strikes and cracks the gloomy sky with its brightness, Kuro’s pushing Keito’s hair out of his face and looking expectantly at him. _It’s hot,_ is Keito’s first thought, and admittedly his second when he has the full weight of Kuro’s cock in his hand.

He hears Kuro barely hiss when he presses his lips against the head. He’s placing the underside of it on the flat plane of his outstretched tongue, lips wrapping around what he can fit in his mouth alone and engulfing Kuro in delicious heat.

The room is spinning and Kuro is definitely now wet in more ways than one. He finds himself grabbing at the table in front of him, his other hand still fisting Keito’s hair as he doubles over him.

“ _Ah,_ Danna that’s so,” Kuro’s looking at him as he speaks, but once again Keito can’t hear what he says over the abrupt crash of thunder. He’s looking up at Kuro through dark green lashes, but he still can’t make out what he’s saying.

Kuro seems to make up for the lack of verbal encouragement by forcing his dick deeper into Keito’s mouth. At this point, the width and density of it is making a strenuous amount of tension build in Keito’s jaw, and Kuro’s just _looking_ at him, babbling incoherent nonsense while fucking into Keito’s protesting throat. He feels himself wrenching on Kuro’s cock in this salacious way that makes tears sting at his half lidded eyes.

When Kuro unsheathes himself from past Keito’s lips, he looks like an absolute animal. Keito’s sure he doesn’t look far off though, coughing vehemently while feeling the mixture of precum and saliva roll down the side of his open mouth.

When Keito regains his stolen breath, the first thing he does is wipe his mouth. Kuro is still watching him silently, and Keito doesn’t give himself enough time to be shameless when he attempts to rub Kuro to completion.

The way Kuro grabs at Keito’s shoulder and forces him up to meet him halfway for a kiss, it reminds Keito of how much of a thug Kuro used to be before surrendering himself to Akatsuki. It makes him hot with a new surge of arousal, and it makes him let go of Kuro’s dick to rest his hands on the other’s still damp biceps.

“Danna,” he breathes, still unable to comfortably kiss him with those damned glasses. “Take it off.”

“ _No,_ ” Keito says, almost as if pained,”I’m not taking off my glasses.”

His voice is just a bit hoarse from their earlier act, and just speaking makes Keito feel embarrassed.

“I wasn’t just talkin’ ‘bout the glasses,” Kuro murmurs, impelling Keito to his feet and rearing him back onto the table. He’s all over Keito, panting as he ferociously tears him out of his clothes.

 _He’s so strong…_ Keito thinks, seated idly on the table while listening to his clothes make awful ripping noises,”Kiryu, be careful with the buttons…”

Lightning strikes once more and Kuro’s eyes shine with it. His gaze is so intense that Keito has to force himself not to waver, _”I’m not going anywhere.”_

At that, Kuro stills, the hands unzipping Keito’s pants, freezing.

Kuro _knows_ that’s a word to his impatience, yet hearing Keito say that strikes something poignant in him. He pauses for a few seconds longer.

He starts to undress Keito again with less felicity, but the itch to have him undressed and _close_ remains.

Keito sighs when Kuro frees his cock, thunder clapping as he sits himself further on the table. He hikes up his leg when Kuro gives a particularly rough tug up from the base and makes another quiet noise when he runs the pad of his calloused thumb over the slit.

Kuro’s large hand wraps around Keito effortlessly, and Keito is suddenly aware of how much his dick is throbbing. He’s moving his hands to Kuro’s ass, his nails digging into the wet fabric of his disheveled pants. When Keito pulls him forward he can feel how hard Kuro is against the inside of his thigh,”Danna, fuck,”

He’s kissing Keito’s neck, and that, coupled with the unrestrained touching of his cock, is making it so incredibly hard for Keito not to cum. Kuro’s rutting against Keito’s thigh, and he has to push him away by his hips both to avoid markings and to ask him a question.

“Kiryu… lube… do you have it…?”

Like this Kuro can see how inordinate Keito looks. He’s flushed from the tip of his ears to the base of his neck, dissonant beads of sweat rolling from his forehead and down the side of his red cheeks. His usually immaculate middle part is mussed— courtesy of Kuro— with a just barely tattered uniform.

Keito’s hair sticks to his damp forehead, thigh twitching when Kuro looks deep into Keito’s eyes and gives another tantalizing stroke.

 _“Kiryu.”_ Keito keens, and he’s so cute for trying not to. No, Kuro doesn’t have any lube, but he doesn’t want to stop yet.

“Just let me put it in your legs,” Kuro says, desperately searching for affirmation from these cajoling touches. Keito _knows_ what he’s doing, he’s trying to touch him until he gives in and it _Works._

Keito’s laid out on the table watching outside of the window from where his head is tilted back. He hears Kuro spitting into his palm, lubricating himself, but he focuses his attention on the way rain beads on the glass and slides down to the window pane. They’re on the top floor, so he can see the cityscape of the town nearby, and a few nameless students walking around campus with umbrellas. Half of Keito’s mind thinks about how much he likes having his face fucked, and he closes his eyes.

Whatever thoughts he has dissipates when Kuro pushes his cock in between Keito’s thighs, and it’s both a blessing and a curse that they can’t see each other like that past Keito’s outstretched legs.

The sound of rain feels heavy in Keito’s ears as it echoes through his mind, because Kuro is so _hot_. The way his dick slides against him, it’s almost as if he’s forcing Keito to feel it. Keito fixates himself on the sensation, on the sound of Kuro making those irresistibly throaty moans, on the sight of his cock passing through the crevice of his thighs.

He fists his messed up uniform, fingers pushing the white dress shirt up his stomach and a ways past his chest. All he can see are the outskirts of Kuro’s powerful frame, the hand that fits almost completely around Keito’s barely bent knees and the other that grips the midsection of his thigh, just squeezing appreciatively.

 _Shameless,_ Keito thinks, licking his lips.

“Danna,” Kuro says, panting as he searches ferociously for purchase. He’s squeezing Keito’s leg, frustrated that he can’t see his face properly. Keito has always been a quiet lover, but it was those soft slips of sounds that made doing things like this that much more enthralling.

Before Kuro can convince himself not to, he’s bending Keito’s closed legs even more and settling them onto the table. He keeps them there with a hand holding his knees down. The change of position twists Keito to his side, his left arm caught between the table and the underside of his body. With Kuro fucking into his legs like this, he feels all the more exposed, body trembling with the approach of his orgasm.

 _“Kiryu,”_ he says, almost inaudibly. It’s like he’s purposefully bearing his neck when he rests his head on the table; Kuro can’t stand it. He can see the way his glasses almost slide from his nose, hair messily falling into his face. Kuro can see his profile so clearly, the curve of his nose and the way his lips tremble around his name.

Kuro feels like a beast, his hips hitting the back of Keito’s legs in an erratic, sorry excuse of a rhythm. _“Danna,”_ he’s going to cum, he’s still damp all over and he’s going to cum in between Keito’s thighs.

Keito’s breathless when he reaches his peak, Kuro’s name cut off by his own silent scream. He’s biting into his fist, eyes squeezed shut as he huffs heavily through his nose. Kuro isn’t far off, and Keito can feel the erotic way his dick pulsates in between his legs when he hits his climax.

His perpetually styled hair is unkempt from the rain and his attempts to dry it, red and black in disarray atop his head. Keito thinks he looks amazing, and he wants Kuro to do everything to him, _Anything_ to him. He blames these inappropriate thoughts on his post-orgasmic high, though.

 

* * *

 

 

Keito is trying hard to not crack a smile when they’re redressing themselves, and he knows that Kuro is probably having a hard time with his clothes still being moist.

He convinces himself that he needed that, they both did.

The rain clouds seem to roll away, and the power hasn’t come back but with the newfound light, Keito finds himself turning the lamp off anyway.

They look at each other for a long stretch of seconds, Both of them smiling and just a little embarrassed.

“…I’ll take you home.”

Keito’s pushing himself up from where he’s leaning on his desk, slender fingers reaching out to brush a stray black hair behind Kuro’s ear. Kuro’s grabbing Keito’s forearm to kiss him right _there_ again, and Keito’s fingers flex involuntarily. The side smile Kuro meets him with makes Keito want to hit him.

“Oi, Kiryu, stop messing around.” He says the sentence with no real bite, Keito pulling his hand away only to press two fingers onto Kuro’s lips.

  
_That dangerous mouth of his._

**Author's Note:**

> As always my twitter is @Chillpedal, and maybe, if you like kurokei or enjoy my writing, you should read my other fics! Haha, just kidding~ But please feel free to kudos or comment! Thank you enstarries ^__^


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